What a Man's Gotta Do
by ElsaF
Summary: Xander deals with his Spike issues


Title: What a Man's Gotta Do  
Author: Elsa Frohman  
Feedback: elsa@frohman.net  
Rating: G  
Spoilers: Naught but extremely vague S7 speculation  
Summary: Spike's back in Sunnydale. How's he going to be welcomed?  
  
  
  
Xander Harris sat at the bar, his chin resting on his folded hands. Directly in front of him was a Heinekin, the cap off, droplets of water glittering on the green glass and soaking the bar napkin beneath it. His eyes were locked on the bottle as he sat motionless, his face a picture of misery.  
  
A stocky middle-aged man slid onto the barstool next to him.  
  
"How's it going?" the newcomer said affably.  
  
"Hmm?" Xander looked over and his frown got a little deeper.  
  
"Got a call. Someone saw you here. Need to talk?"  
  
Xander shook his head.  
  
"Sure?"  
  
Xander nodded.  
  
"If you want I'll go. But, I've got to tell you, I bet I listen better than that bottle."  
  
"You're my sponsor, Bill," Xander said slowly. "And I appreciate you trying to help. But I've got to work this out for myself.   
  
"Besides, I'm the one who's listening. I'm waiting for this bottle to tell me I don't have to do what I've got to do. I'm waiting for it to say 'Climb on in, Xander. You don't have to do anything. I'll make the hurt go away -- at least until tomorrow morning.' But you know, it just sits there. Hasn't said a word."  
  
Bill smiled. "How long you been here?"  
  
"Couple hours."  
  
"And you haven't had a drink, yet."  
  
Xander shook his head, his eyes still locked on the green glass neck of the beer bottle.  
  
"Well, that's good, at least. Why don't we go down to the Espresso Pump. I can just about guarantee you that that bottle doesn't have anything to say to you that you need to hear. We can get some coffee and you can tell me why you're suddenly listening to bottles. You've been sober for..."  
  
"Six weeks, three days."  
  
"Come on. Let's get out of here."  
  
Xander shook his head. "When I get off this bar stool, I'm going to go do something that I've got to do. I'm not moving until then."  
  
The bartender came over. "Can I get you something?"  
  
"Club soda with a twist," Bill said. He put a five-dollar bill on the bar.  
  
"So, you going to tell me what the trouble is? It'll help -- believe me."  
  
Xander sighed. "Last spring. I was going to get married, and I got cold feet. Walked out of my wedding and made an ass of myself. Really hurt my fiancée. Things got really messed up."  
  
"OK. But that's all water under the bridge."  
  
"Yeah, but things got worse. I was trying to patch things up with Anya, but she was too angry with me. So I was sort of trying to play it cool -- hang back and let her cool off. But there was this other guy, and he moves in and she slept with him. And I saw it -- never mind how, that's a whole different story. So, I go and confront them, and it gets pretty ugly.  
  
"But that's not all this guy did. He'd been with this other woman friend of mine. Buffy's like a sister to me. And they'd broken up, but he wasn't taking it very well -- he kept after her. And she saw him with Anya too. So, even though they were broken up, she was pretty upset about it. And the next day he goes to her and -- well, she claims it wasn't a big deal, but it was pretty obvious to me what happened. She fought him off, but he tried...  
  
"So, after that, he left town -- which was fine with me."  
  
Bill took a swig of his club soda.  
  
"So, this summer I've been getting my head together. Got dried out. Anya and me, we've been talking. She doesn't want to start up again -- yet -- but we're talking. And Buffy's been doing better too. She's not seeing anybody, but she's got a better job now, and she's been a lot happier. So, things have been pretty smooth. Maybe not as good as they used to be -- but we're all getting back on track.  
  
"But this afternoon I heard..." Xander stopped and took a deep breath. "Buffy told me -- he's back. She hasn't actually seen him yet, but his buddy, Clem, says he's back."  
  
"Hmmm," Bill said. "So, you're worried he's going to interfere with you and Anya?"  
  
"I can't tell Anya who to see," Xander said slowly. "And I sure can't tell Buffy who to see."  
  
"That's right. You're not responsible for the world. You've got enough of a burden just looking after yourself."  
  
Xander nodded.  
  
"I know it's hard to see things happening that may hurt people you care about. But you've got to pull back. You won't be any good to them if you can't keep yourself on track."  
  
"Buffy wants me to stay away from him. She wants me to let her deal with him her own way."  
  
"So, are you going to do that?"  
  
Xander's jaw tightened. "No."  
  
"I see."  
  
"I don't want to have to face this, but I have to. There are things a man has to do. I won't be able to look myself in the mirror if I don't."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Look, Bill, I appreciate you caring -- taking time out to check on me. But it's OK. Really. This is Xander Harris getting up now. He's going to walk out of here and leave the bottle right there. And if the bottle tries to say anything after he's gone, you just tell it to shut up."  
  
"Good luck."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
-------------   
  
Xander stood in the dark cemetery in front of the door to a crypt he knew only too well. This was the point of no return. Either open the door and go in, or turn around and leave. If he put his hand on the door, the die would be cast. The bloodsucker would hear him -- probably had heard him already. Xander pushed the door open.  
  
The interior was bathed in flickering candlelight that threw jittering shadows across the floor and walls. Spike was home, that was certain. He wouldn't have left these candles burning if he'd gone out. If Clem had been here, the television would be on. Xander hesitated, looking around the crypt for any sign of the vampire who hadn't been seen in Sunnydale for five months.  
  
He heard him before he saw him. Steps coming up the ladder from the lower level. Xander tensed. His mouth was dry and as much as he tried to deny it, his knees were shaking.  
  
Spike emerged from the hole in the floor with his back to Xander. He stopped for a moment -- sensing he was not alone. He turned around.  
  
It was Spike, all right. The hair was still beached white, though he seemed a bit thinner than Xander remembered. Jeans and a black T-shirt -- his style hadn't changed much, though Xander knew exactly which Sunnydale closet the leather duster was hanging in.  
  
A long, awkward silence.  
  
"Harris..."  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Come to welcome me home?"  
  
The tone of voice surprised Xander. No hostility -- just resignation.   
  
"Sort of."  
  
"Look..."  
  
"No, you look..."   
  
"I'm looking. You know I can't defend myself, so do what you came to do, or get out."  
  
Xander had to will the muscles of his jaw to move. He opened and closed his mouth several times before any sound came out.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Spike blinked. "You're sorry?"  
  
"Yeah. I'm sorry. The last time I saw you, I tried to kill you. But I was blaming you for a situation that was completely my own fault. You hadn't done anything wrong -- then. I had. So, I want you to know, I'm sorry."  
  
Spike was silent for a moment. He seemed to be waiting for Xander to say something else -- or maybe pull out a stake and say, "But I'm still going to kill you..."  
  
"So, I guess I'll just go and leave you alone now. I just wanted you to know that you don't have to worry about me leaping out at you somewhere."  
  
Xander turned to go.  
  
"Harris..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Um... it's no big. I've tried to kill you lots of times."  
  
"I don't really think you have. Oh, you've hit me over the head a few times. And the concussion after that time you kidnapped me and Willow was a bitch. And Cordy wouldn't have anything to do with me after that -- but that wasn't your fault either. But I don't really think you've ever honestly tried to kill me. If you had, I think I'd be dead."  
  
Xander turned back and saw Spike looking down at the floor.  
  
"How'd you know I was back?"  
  
"Clem told Buffy. Buffy told me."  
  
"Then Buffy knows..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"How's she doing?"  
  
"Better. She got fired at the Doublemeat. But she's got a better job now. Things are looking up."  
  
"The niblet?"  
  
"A lot better. The new high school opened in September, so she's going to school closer to home now. And she's getting involved in some after-school stuff, and I think her grades are getting better."  
  
"Anya?"  
  
It was Xander's turn to look at the floor. "She's doing better, too. The rebuilding is almost done at the Magic Box. Grand reopening is next week."  
  
"Rebuilding?"  
  
"Oh, you don't know..."  
  
"Sorta been out of the loop."  
  
"Look, Buffy got pretty mad at me last spring about telling other people's business. If you don't mind, I'll let her tell you about what happened after you took off last spring."  
  
"Another apocalypse?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"That's life on the hellmouth. I guess I shouldn't have took off like I did..."  
  
"You couldn't have helped anyway. It pretty much went down in broad daylight.  
  
"Willow's been in England all summer with Giles. But they'll be back next week for the grand opening."  
  
"You want a beer? Clem left the fridge stocked."  
  
"Um... no thanks. Sort of swore off."  
  
"Oh... Well, I think he left some lemonade in there too."  
  
"That'd be good. Sort of thirsty."  
  
Spike went to the refrigerator and poured a glass.  
  
"So, what you been up to? I assume it was nothing involving mass slaughter..."  
  
" 'Fraid my mass slaughter days are pretty much over. Did some traveling. Went to Africa. Took the long way back. Needed some time to think."  
  
"Africa... Cool. Never been farther from Sunnydale than LA, myself. What part of Africa?"  
  
"Uganda. Can't say much for the amenities."  
  
--------------  
  
"So, the train from Mbale to Gulu should of taken about ten hours, but the bloody thing kept breaking down -- and when they could keep it running, the tracks would be out. So it took five days. And you know I couldn't come out of my private compartment during the day, and it was hotter than hell. I think if I needed to breathe, I would have suffocated.   
  
"Just outside Sorati, the local warlord stopped the train and went through with his mates shakin' everyone down. You know what I can't do -- but when they got to me I just went game face on them, and he had a sudden change of heart."  
  
"That's all it took? Scary face -- oh sorry, we didn't really mean it?"  
  
Spike laughed. "Yeah... these little 'I got a big gun so you do what I say piss ants' don't carry those big guns 'cause they've got big anything else. So we went back down the train and I made him apologize to everybody and give 'em back their stuff.   
  
"But, by that time we'd lost another four hours, and when they were ready to move the train again, there was a bloody herd of cattle on the tracks."  
  
There was a knock on the crypt door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
Anya stepped through the door.  
  
"Xander! What are you doing here?"  
  
"Spike's been telling me about Africa."  
  
"Africa? You went to Africa?" The justice demon stopped and looked the vampire up and down. A surprised look crossed her face fleetingly, but she covered and smiled. "Welcome back!"  
  
"Thanks, pet. Harris tells me you had a spot of trouble. Sorry I couldn't be here to help out."  
  
Anya held out a paper bag. "I brought you some burba weed. This way you won't have to start stealing it right away!" she said cheerfully.  
  
Spike smiled, but looked abashed. "Sorry about that, love."  
  
"So, how was Africa?"  
  
----------------  
  
"... so I told the Sam'k'shat demon what his minion had been up to, and he blew a gasket. But he was grateful and got me a pretty good forged passport."  
  
"I used to know a Gorfen Shasnot in Algiers. He had the prettiest yellow eyes," Anya mused. "But he was a big lump of nothing in bed."  
  
There was another knock on the door.  
  
"Come in, everybody's welcome -- but I'm warning you, we're running short on snacks," Spike called out.  
  
A petite blonde woman stepped through the door.  
  
"Buffy..."  
  
"Spike..." She was about to start talking but looked around and realized they weren't alone. "Xander, Anya... I didn't expect to find you two here."  
  
"Spike's telling us about Africa," Anya said brightly. "But it's late. I think you'd better walk me home now, Xander."  
  
"You want me to walk you home?"  
  
The justice demon tilted her head toward the door. "We need to talk about...that thing."  
  
"That thing?"  
  
"You know, Xander. That...thing."  
  
"Oh. Right. The thing." The carpenter and demon started for the door.   
  
"Um, Spike...thanks for the...lemonade."  
  
"Sure, any time," he replied, though his attention was entirely on the newcomer.  
  
The door closed and they were alone.  
  
"Why were Xander and Anya here?"  
  
"They just dropped by to welcome me back."  
  
"Xander welcomed you back?"  
  
"Yeah. Didn't expect that. Could of knocked me over with a feather." He gave her a tentative smile.  
  
"Well, I think that's the AA talking. They're very big on taking responsibility for the stuff you've done and trying to make it right."  
  
"Whatever. I was impressed. Think it took guts."  
  
"Yeah. I'd say we were calling Xander Guts Boy these days, but he's been working on that too."  
  
There was an awkward silence. Buffy just stood there, looking. Spike stood his ground, but was finding it hard to meet her eyes.  
  
"I'd say I was sorry, but I've said it before, and I don't think it's half enough," he said at last.  
  
"Saying it's never enough. But we've still got to say it. I'm sorry, too."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
There was another long silence.  
  
"Harris hinted at some trouble after I left. But he said he was going to let you tell me about it. For what it's worth, I'm sorry I left you alone to face it."  
  
"I'm sorry you left when you did. But not because we needed you for the crisis. We got through that, and I think it's the first thing I've faced this year when I really wasn't alone. I wish you'd stayed because maybe we could have finally talked it out. Leaving it this long only makes it harder."  
  
Spike hung his head. "Sorry, love. Wasn't ready to face you again."  
  
"Why did you come back?"  
  
"Had to sooner or later. Owed it to you. Had to come a day when I was going to stand here and tell you that if you want to stake me, go ahead. For what I did to you, I owe you that. If I'm going to try to be a man, I've got to take what's coming to me."  
  
"Is that what you want?"  
  
"Not really. But as I've imagined it, over and over, all this time, the best case scenario was 'Get out and don't let me ever lay eyes on you again.' So, whatever you want to say, or do, go ahead -- and we'll be done with it."  
  
"A lot has happened. I don't think I can summarize it in a pithy sentence or two. But, when it was all over, what you did -- it wasn't such a big deal. It wasn't nothing -- I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hurt. But I don't think it would have happened if you hadn't been hurt -- probably more than I was. And I'm the one who hurt you."  
  
Buffy stopped, unable to go on.  
  
"You don't need to..."  
  
"Yeah, I do. I so do. I'm so sorry."  
  
"I'm sorry too."  
  
"So, we're sorry."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Um... I really should tell you all about Willow's breakdown, and Tara's death, and what happened to Warren and the nerds. And how Giles really came through for us. But I don't think I can do it right now."  
  
"Tara? That's awful. Whenever you're ready, pet."  
  
"Why don't you come over tomorrow night? Dawn will be home. We can sit down and I'll tell you everything that happened, and you can tell us about Africa."  
  
"That'd be nice. I'll be able to come in?"  
  
"I never revoked your invitation."  
  
"The niblet still speaking to me?"  
  
"She's cheesed that you took off when you did. But I think she'll get over it."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"But Spike, there are going to be some rules now."  
  
"Whatever you say, pet."  
  
"First, I'm not allowed to hit you. No hitting. Hitting is not of the good. Second, I'm not allowed to lie about whether I've been seeing you. Lying is for cowards. If there's anything I'm not allowed to be, it's a coward. Third, I'm not allowed to just barge in on you anytime I feel like it. I can't come here unless you invite me."  
  
"Um... if you need me, pet, you can always..."  
  
"I think you should get a phone. Then I can call you, and you can call me -- if you need something."  
  
"All your rules seem to be for you."  
  
"Yeah. That's how it works. You want rules, you've got to make them up yourself. It's not my job to be your conscience. I think we've tried that, and I just generally suck at it."  
  
Buffy turned to go, but stopped before she got to the door.  
  
"Spike?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Welcome home." 


End file.
